Q&A
by She Who Shines
Summary: I've trapped the Hogfather characters and they are completely at our mercy. Drop a review asking questions of Susan, Death, or others, and I will force them to answer. Mwahaha. -This is inspired by a Phantom of the Opera Fanfic someone else wrote-
1. Intro, Starting the Show

You enter, to see a plain wooden room. You aren't sure how you got here, or what door you came from, because it's gone now. A brunette with just longer than shoulder length hair, narrow brown glasses, and a friendly smile nods in your direction.

"Hiya!" she calls brightly. "I'm She Who Shines. I'd ask your name, but you'll find that you can't quite reply at the moment."

About now you realize that she's right. Your lips won't move, and you find that your body isn't even under your control. Your eyes glide over the room involuntarily, and a single armchair sprouts out from the plain wood floor. You find yourself crossing the room and sitting most quickly. The chair, though it appears nicely cushioned, feels exactly like the chair you happen to be sitting in.

She Who Shines bows, and smiles again.

"Welcome to Q&A. I've temporarily brought you to this room so you could enjoy the show first-hand, provided your imagination is good enough. You'll probably be ignored for the most part, but the minute you drop a review with your Qs (questions) I'll speak on your behalf to the characters, and they'll give you the As (answers)."

Your face shrivels in confusion, and She Who Shines glances around in understanding.

"Yes, well, they've yet to arrive. I think it's about time that that happens, though, don't you?"

She Who Shines reaches into a pocket on her fuzzy sweatpants and pulls out a remote. She fumbles with it for a few seconds, grinning apologetically at her clumsiness, and presses a big black button. Your head snaps up, and a black and yellow figure tumbles out of a trapdoor in the ceiling. He somehow manages to land in an agile crouch, and the next thing you know he's standing directly in front of She Who Shines with a curious, tilted head.

"Hi. My names Teatime; what's yours?" he asks softly.

She Who Shines takes a step back, but doesn't manage to get any further from him. Her face furrows worriedly.

"Um, hi, Mr. Teh-ah-tim-eh."

"Oh, why thank you for pronouncing it correctly. So many people – "

"Call you tea-time. Mmmhmm," she says with a nod, taking another nervous step back just as successfully.

"You are certainly well informed," Teatime observes, his terrifying eyes boring into her. "Where am I?"

She Who Shines surreptitiously presses a button on her remote, and a duchess dressed in black plops onto the ground in an unceremonious heap.

"Where the blazes am I?!" Susan calls as she pulls herself to her feet and dusts off her skirts. "YOU!" she calls again, pointing darkly at Teatime.

It's a blur, and then you see a red starburst spreading across Susan's black bodice. She stares down at her bleeding breast in shock, then looks up at the grinning Assassin. His useful little dagger is up besides his cheek, dripping red blood.

"What'd you go and do that for?" She Who Shines sighs.

"I couldn't have her go and kill me _again,_" Teatime explains. "That'd be _sloppy_. I made the mistake of keeping her around last time. I'm not going to do it _again_."

Susan makes a slight choking sound as she glares at him, when her chest suddenly knits itself back together. Teatime looks like a little boy whose candy was stolen just before he bit into it.

"So you _can't _be killed, can you?" he sighs.

"Oh no, she can. But not here, and not now. We haven't even gotten to the Qs yet!" She Who Shines explains.

Susan steps forward and aims an expert punch at the Assassin. She Who Shines considers protecting him as well, before realizing how silly she's being. Teatime ducks in a black blur, somehow standing up directly behind the duchess. He looks terribly amused, and clicks patronizingly.

"Haven't you _learned, _Susan? You simply _can't _hit me unless it was preceded by psychological warfare. Though I think I've set up some defenses now." He smiles charmingly. "I've learned from _my _mistake."

Susan looks like she's about to growl.

She Who Shines presses her remote again, and another black figure tumbles from the ceiling – landing in much the same manner as Death's granddaughter. Death picks himself up off the ground and glances around.

OH. IS THIS A PARTY? SUSAN, WHY AM I IN THE COMPANY OF ONE GIRL, ONE DEAD ASSASSIN, AND YOURSELF?

"I wish I knew!" she calls angrily, throwing her arms up into the air. She feels a sharp pain, and glances down to see the tip of a knife coming out of her chest again. Only this time, Teatime stabbed her from behind. She whirls around and throws a punch directly behind her, wishing desperately for a poker. Or really anything metallic and heavy. Lots of brutal thoughts go through her head, but again, Teatime eludes her.

"Oh dear. This is certainly annoying. Normally, when I inhume someone, they _die._"

"Normally, when _I _kill someone," Susan growls, "they _stay_ dead!"

"You've killed someone before me?" Teatime asks curiously. "I'm surprised. I thought you were against such things. I assumed from what I saw you were one of those _noble _people, aren't you?"

Death coughs awkwardly.

EXCUSE ME, BUT WHERE AM I?

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She Who Shines apologizes. "I just love watching Susan and Teatime fighting one another. I'm a real T/S shipper. I kind of ignoring you. But you're definitely one of my favorite characters, and I totally love you, so please don't take it the wrong way!"

"_What?_" Susan calls. "Did you say 'T/S shipper'? What is that supposed to mean?"

She glares at She Who Shines, hands on her hips. Teatime watches curiously, twisting his knife between his fingers. Death isn't quite sure what to do, so merely keeps an eye (or rather, trains both of his eye sockets) on Teatime.

"Um..." She Who Shines glances around nervously, beginning to realize that she probably should have kept her big mouth shut. "I think that you and Teatime becoming romantically involved would be epic?" she manages.

Teatime tilts his head.

"I admit that Susan is most definitely intriguing, but I have no interest in romantic interludes."

His words are overshadowed.

ARE YOU BLOODY CRAZY?! Susan shrieks.

"Probably a little," She Who Shines admits sheepishly. "Look, everyone, I've kidnapped you from your respective stories, and now I'm going to ask you all questions that other people will enter. I warn you now, that whatever you try, I'm in complete control and am all powerful here and now. I'm the _author_. If you don't believe me, just look at Susan here, who is still alive even after being stabbed by _Teatime _of all people.

She Who Shines finds herself nose to nose with the craziest Assassin ever to breach fiction, his knife cold against her neck. She realizes that at this moment she is incredibly excited, and questions her own sanity before assuring herself that at the very least she's better than Teatime is. She stills her racing heart at being confronted with her worst fictional fear, and reminds herself that _she is the author_.

"So if I killed _you, _I could kill Susan?" he asks softly. "Or is there a flaw in my logic? Please _do _tell me. I'm always happy to be corrected."

She Who Shines gulps down her fear.

"You can't kill me."

She feels remarkably pleased with how defiant and brave her voice sounded. She doesn't _feel _defiant or brave.

"I find that rather hard to believe," Teatime whispers darkly. A second later he glances at his knife, his face furrowed in frustration and surprise. A slow smile spreads across She Who Shines's face, as the Assassin finds that his wrist simply won't make the proper motions. You realize that this must be quite similar to the current body bind you yourself are under.

"Alright, we've got everyone of consequence besides Albert, Mr. Teatime's lackeys, and the Unseen University Folks. Oh, and Billious and Violet. I'll just drop them through the trap door when someone asks them a question. I'd thank you all for coming, but you really didn't have a choice so I don't see the point," She Who Shines explains. "Well, welcome to Q&A, the talkshow where reviewers quiz you. Please refrain from killing one another."

Teatime is still trying to get his wrist to move and slit her throat as she turns her head and looks directly into your eyes.

"Have you any questions for Teatime, Susan, Death, Medium Dave, Albert, Banjo Lilywhite, Mr. Sydney, Arch Chancellor Ridcully, et cetera? Well now's your chance to ask 'em! Just leave a review, and I'll speak on your behalf. Thank _you _for coming, and I hope you enjoy yourself. I know I certainly will."

Teatime is across the room now, doing something that really couldn't be described as anything other than sulking. She Who Shines, if she weren't the author, would be feeling very, very worried, as it was plain that he was planning exactly how to inhume her in the most brutal way possible. She probably should be anyway.

"You let me back this instant," Susan says at last.

"No! The fun's only just begone," SWS protests.

"_Fun!?_" the duchess calls in confused anger. "This is your idea of _fun?! _Locking yourself up with a psychokiller, a skeleton, and a woman who if she had a poker would skewer you with it?"

"Not just any psychokiller," SWS corrects, raising a finger. "_THE _coolest psychokiller ever to grace fiction. The wittiest Assassin I've ever read about. The scariest fictional character besides Sylar, who is just too darn brutal, but even somehow Teatime manages to scare me more _he _does." Then she grins, "But yes, this _is _my idea of fun."

UM, Death says, feeling a little awkward and out of place. ARE PEOPLE SUPPOSED TO FIND THAT SORT OF THING FUN?

"NO!" Susan yells angrily.

"You think I'm scary?" Teatime asks, raising his gaze up from his knife.

"Oh, _definitely_. Truly terrifying," SWS agrees with an emphatic nod.

"Huh. I'm glad to know that I succeed there."

"You don't scare _me, Tea_time."

"Teh-ah-tim-eh," SWS and Teatime correct automatically.

SWS realizes that she's being a real idiot. But oh well. What else is fanfiction for?

"Anyhow, REVIEW your questions so the games may commence! I got this idea from someone else's _Phantom of the Opera _fic, so it's not my inventions, but I hope I do the characters justice and to entertain you while I do it," SWS says, looking into your eyes once more.

About now you find yourself in front of your computer again, your mouse suspiciously hovering over the 'review' button...


	2. NOW the Show Starts

The strange wooden room blurs into your vision, reminiscent of a poorly furnished basement as you sit in the deceptively cozy looking armchair. She Who Shines is there, as well as all the other characters from last time. She is the only one looking anything close to happy.

"Hi, y'all. Welcome back to Q&A! The totally awesome question and answer talkshow hosted by me, for no reason other than I am evil and love to torment poor characters."

This earns SWS a glare from a crossed-armed Susan, an idle, bored glance from Teatime, and Death finally speaking up.

THIS WOULD CONSTITUTE AS KIDNAPPING, WOULD IT NOT? he observes.

"Well, no. You're all fictional."

"Ah. So _this _is fictional?" Susan calls, feeling rather fed up. She tries to punch SWS, but her arm shrivels into paper against the other's chin. The duchess stares at her arm, dumbfounded, as it fleshes out and becomes whole once again.

"_Fascinating,_" Teatime breathes oddly.

"I'm sorry to say so, but _yes,_" She Who Shines answers with a shrug. Susan gives her a glare of death, and SWS cowers for a few seconds.

SO THERE IS NOTHING – ABSOLUTELY _NOTHING_ – ANY OF US CAN DO TO GET OUT? Death asks.

"I'm afraid not," SWS replies. "_But, _the more you cooperate, the more quickly we'll get through the questions, the sooner I can send you all on your merry way."

Death and Susan exchange a glance. Teatime is on the opposite side of the room as he was earlier, carving into the wooden wall. The wall keeps fixing itself, but he seems to enjoy trying to finish whatever it is he's drawing before the wall erases it. Well, maybe he's not _enjoying_ it, but it is amusing enough to keep his boredom at bay for the time being. Of course, we all know how short _his _attention span is, and this distraction probably won't last long.

VERY WELL. I WILL COOPERATE, TO A POINT, Death says at last. I WOULD REQUEST THAT THIS BE FINISHED AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. I DO HAVE AN OCCUPATION TO ATTEND TO.

"Ah, I'm sure the disc can **s**urviv**e** an hour or two without **D**eat**h**," SWS replies dismissively. "Alright, we've passed the intro, so now we're moving on to the questions! We'll start with Susan here, who is the closest thing _Hogfather _has to a protagonist. This question is from my dear sister Purple Peanutbutter – "

"_Purple Peanutbutter?_" Susan calls skeptically. "I'm stuck in a room with a sister of Purple Peanutbutter and a _Tea_time."

Teatime gazes at the wall as he slowly pronounces his name.

"Teh-ah-tim-eh, Susan. Are you really that slow? I've corrected you many times."

"Well, we're all on the internet, so it's common not to use our real names. I'm called She Who Shines," SWS explains. "But anyhow, this question is for Susan from my sister: _Can you cut your hair?_"

Susan snorts.

"Oh, believe me, I've _tried._ If by some miracle I can actually get it to cooperate it ends up growing back the next day. My hair is very rebellious."

"Just like you are. That makes sense," She Who Shines observes, then glances down at the flash cards in her hands so she doesn't have to face Death's granddaughter's glare straight on. She coughs nervously before continuing. "Um, this question is from aicerkul to Susan, and duchess-susan has asked a very similar question herself: _why do you cling so desperately to your normality/why don't you EMBRACE being Death's granddaughter?_"

Susan looks as if you'd just asked her 'why when we jump up do we fall down again?'. She stares in complete and utter disbelief for a full fifteen seconds, before shaking her head and snapping out of it.

"Honestly? People are _honestly _wondering that?!" she laughs, but it comes out dry like a croak. Her hair is swimming about her head, and her eyes are wide and huge. She's starting to look a little crazy, and everyone in the room who possesses an ounce of sanity (so, as you've probably guessed, not including Teatime) and still possessing their own mobility (and not including you, either) takes a nervous step back. "He's a skeleton! I… _everyone_… My world has been so mixed up and so lopsided and it'd just be nice if I could have a calm, simple existence just doing what _I _want to do without people telling me I have to save the bloody disc every other week!"

"I guess that makes sense," SWS says with a nod. "You don't strike me as a conformist. Alright, then, we're moving on to _Death _– second most prominent character in the entire story."

"Do I fit in there somewhere?" Teatime asks idly, finally turning from the wall to examine the hostess curiously. His knife flips in his fingers, glints brightly, and somehow vanishes into the folds of his stylish black clothing.

"_You're_ the villain. Probably the third main character, I'd guess, if villains were counted as such." SWS tilts her head, "Well, really, the Auditors of Reality are the villains… you're kind of… um…" She shrugs, "I don't really know. You're totally awesome, though."

"Then why don't I go next?"

"Because I've already asked Death. So, this question is from aicerkul: _don't you sometimes wish Susan would visit you more often?_" Death shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Susan. She Who Shines smiles encouragingly. "Go ahead, don't be shy. Just answer honestly."

WELL… OF COURSE I DO, he says at last. SHE IS MY GRANDDAUGHTER, AND I RARELY EVER SEE HER. WITH YSABEL GONE, SHE IS MY ONLY FAMILY. SO YES, I WISH SUSAN WOULD COME AND VISIT NOW THEN. MAYBE FOR A BIT OF PLUM PUDDING.

"_Granddad?_" Susan says skeptically, stepping forwards and tilting her head in that direction also, as if asking someone to please stop joking around immediately.

The skeleton twiddles his long thumbs.

I'M BEING PERFECTLY SERIOUS, Death replies, slightly defensively.

"I didn't know you felt that way," she manages awkwardly.

UM, WELL…

Whatever he was going to say afterwards was cut off by the host herself.

"Next question! This one is from duchess-susan, for Death: _Do you sense anything between Susan and Teatime, other than fireside equipment?_"

Susan's eyes widen in shock, and, upon hearing his name (correctly, too!), Teatime looks up in interest. He's beginning to find this basement-like 'room' to be very boring and dull.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?!" Susan blurts out angrily.

"I would not mind a complete explanation myself," Teatime adds curiously.

"Just let poor Death answer the question, won't you, Susan?" SWS sighs. "You're mean enough to him already."

"I am not – "

"And Teatime, you're turn's coming up, so be _patient._"

"I can be patient," the Assassin replies, before skipping the space between himself and the hostess. He stares down at her, his gaze cold and soft and terrifying, "…when I want to be. I don't… _want_ to be patient right now."

"Think about it this way," She Who Shines evades, grinning nervously as she steps backwards and to the side. She is very grateful that Teatime stays in place for once. "If you weren't here, you'd be dead. I've done you a favor. Anyhow, Death, you know the question; go ahead."

SENSE SOMETHING? BETWEEN THEM? the skeleton asks, glancing back and forth between the peeved glarer (Susan) and surprisingly cheerful glaree (Teatime). WELL, FOR SUSAN, THERE'S THE USUAL AMOUNT OF GROUCHY ANIMOSITY –

Susan grumbles darkly.

– AND TEATIME SEEMS TO BE GREATLY INTRIGUED BY HER. I'VE ALSO NOTED THAT SUSAN ACTUALLY SEEMS TO BE AFRAID OF HIM –

Susan's eyes widen in shock and anger.

"Granddad! What are you _saying?!_" she calls.

– IF ONLY A LITTLE. SHE ISN'T AFRAID OF VERY MUCH, AND SHE DOES A GOOD JOB OF HIDING IT WHEN SHE IS, BUT I KNOW MY GRANDDAUGHTER WELL – AND I KNOW THAT IF ANYONE STIRS THE SLIGHTEST INKLING OF FEAR WITHIN HER, IT IS HE.

"Truly?" Teatime chirps excitedly. "I had hoped, but I wasn't quite…_ certain_." He turns and grins at the duchess, "You _are _afraid of me."  
Susan glares at him.

"I am not, not, _not _even _unnerved_ by you, _Tea_time," she growls. "_Disgusted_, maybe, but most _definitely _not afraid."

Teatime shakes his head, a small smile spreading across his face as he takes a step forwards.

"Oh, I don't believe that. You're _lying_."

About now you see the two of them almost nose to nose, Teatime looking like he's having the time of his life and being terribly smug, Susan looking like her head is about to explode. She seems ready to snarl, and the birthmark on her cheek is very prominent as her terrible glare bores into him. He doesn't seem to be affected, though.

"_You – !"_ she growls.

"Next question!" SWS interrupts, and Susan and Teatime slide across the room until they hit the walls on either side. The hostess has a hunch that if she let them continue their fight, someone would end up dead no matter _how _hard she tried to stop it. "Oh, looks like that's it for you, Death."

REALLY? he asks, and you are very surprised to hear a tinge of… is that _disappointment? _ONLY TWO QUESTIONS FOR ME?

"Well," She Who Shines replies sadly, "my sister couldn't think of any extra ones." She turns and looks you in the eyes, "Have pity on poor Death! He deserves a bit of attention, don't you think?" She smiles brightly, and flips through her cue cards. She reads the one on the top, nods, pulls out her remote, clicks the big black button, and watches happily as a small black ball tumbles out of the trapdoor in the ceiling. A black bird falls as well, and everyone finds themselves wondering how _that _happened. The bird, Quoth, lands on the ball, Death of Rats, and squawks unhappily.

"Where exactly am I?" he calls, ruffling his feathers.

"Don't ask, Quoth," Susan groans. "It's not worth it."

"Anyhow, Death of Rats," She Who Shines calls brightly, "aicerkul was wondering: _how do you digest things when you haven't got any organs to do so?_"

SQUEAK. EEK EEK CHIP CHEEP, the Death of Rats replies matter-of-factly.

"He says," Quoth calls in his shrieky, raven voice, "the same way Death does."

SWS raises an eyebrow.

"Um… that's not very informative."

EEK SQUEAK CHEEP CHEEP.

"Nothin' ever is," the raven translates.

EEK CHEEP CHEEP SQUEAK EEK CHEEP SQUEAK SQUEAK.

"But if you really must know," Quoth continues, "he doesn't. They chew it, then it falls down through the bones and vanishes somewhere in the ribs. So they could eat and eat and never be overstuffed. They'd never be hungry, either."

"Hmm, that's rather nice," She Who Shines mentions. "Can you taste the food?"

EEK CHEEP.

"Sort of," Quoth finishes with a bird's equivalent of a shrug.

"Ah. Well, moving on to Teatime!" The hostess smiles brightly, beginning to read her flash cards. Her smile slowly fades away as she looks at the words she is reading in horror. "God, no…" she gasps.

"What?" Teatime and Susan ask simultaneously. They glance at one another curiously, each raising a brow, before looking back at the girl before them. The hostess smiles meekly.

"Um, well…" she glances your way, and mouths 'how could you do this to me?!!!!!!' (you sense the exclamation points), before turning her head back to Teatime and closing her eyes tightly as she spits out the words as quickly as possible: "aicerkul wants to know _did you really torch a cat and look up dolls dresses or isit all just a lie?_"

SWS is sure that she's going to feel a knife zip through her chest. She's so sure, in fact, and so afraid, that she forgets that she's the author and prepares to die. She knows it's going to happen, and wonders how her life came to this. She had such plans for her future – a career in psychology, learning languages, a family… and here she is, being 'inhumed' by a fictional character (whether or not he happens to be a terribly _awesome _fictional character is pretty much irrelevant at this moment).

So when a sharp, odd laugh fills the air and she peaks through a squinted eye to see Teatime is the source, she feels so relieved she could cry. She actually does, letting out a long breath as tiny tears pool at the sides of her eyes. She shoots a glare your way.

"No, I've never torched a cat," Teatime answers brightly. "Cats are too much fun," he pauses, making everyone heave a sigh of relief before he actually finishes the sentence, "…to drown. They hate water. _Dogs_ have this thing about fire. And luring moths into flames is always _so _entertaining, if you don't mind the singeing smell."

SWS blinks at the man before her, wondering how on earth (oops, _the disc_) he ended up so twisted.

"And the dolls' dresses?" she squeaks, wishing she could just skip the stupid question but knowing her obligation as hostess would prevent her from doing so.

Teatime's smile fades and he grows very serious.

"I didn't," he says in a low voice, leaving no room for argument. Susan snorts, then shrieks when he pulls her hair again. How he ended up behind her in so few seconds (er, _less than __**one**_), you'll never know. "I said, '_I didn't_'."

"Release me this instant," she growls levelly as she glares defiantly, and both parties once again find themselves shooting across the room and slamming into the walls.

She Who Shines hurriedly shuffles through her flashcards, glad to be rid of the last one. She nearly cries when she sees the next, but supposes that it's at least better than the previous one. She takes in a deep breath.

"This is a question from duchess-susan to you again, Mr. Teatime," she manages. "_Are you aware, being so childish, that you are amazingly attractive?_"

"Come again?" the Assassin asks, momentarily nonplussed. He looks honestly confused.

SWS turns and looks into your eyes.

"That answer your question?"

"Oh, come now!" Susan calls sardonically. "He's a twisted Assassin who couldn't tell right from wrong if his life depended on it and probably wouldn't _care_, either. Of _course _he doesn't know he has curls to die for."

Silence falls over the room like a smothering blanket as Death, Quoth, Death of Rats, and She Who Shines all stare at Susan blankly.

YOU FIND HIM _ATTRACTIVE,_ SUSAN? Death asks in shock.

"Gods, no! I didn't mean it like that!" the duchess calls, her face growing red. "Twyla would kill to have such perfect ringlets. They look like a fairy princess'."

"Uh-huh," SWS says skeptically.

"I'm being perfectly honest!"

Teatime appears to be trying to make sense of the whole conversation. She Who Shines raises her eyebrows (since she's never mastered only raising _one_) and moves on to the next flash card.

"Oh, my! A _sane question!_" she calls happily. "Ooo, it's from _my sister__,_ too. She's so refreshing." SWS eyes you accusingly. "Anyhow, Purple Peanutbutter is asking you, Mr. Teatime: _did you really kill your parents?_"

Teatime appears thoughtful.

"I don't really know… it's such a shame. I was very, very young when they died." He shakes his head sadly. "I remember something about blood. There was a lot of fire, too. There might have been a dog. Someone could have been screaming. I think there was a fly. Quite a bit of smoke. I _know _that my hands were all bloody. But that's about it." He shrugs with a helpless smile. "I guess I'll never know what really happened."

Everyone glances around nervously. There are a few quick coughs.

"Well, moving on…" SWS manages. "I'm really looking forwards to seeing what my _sane _sister is going to ask next! It's so nice to have questions that won't get you killed by Teatime. So nice to…" she trails off, reading the words and paling. "Oh dear. Sister mine, _why?_" she howls. She Who Shines closes her eyes tightly, and takes in a deep breath. "_My sister _– not me! – says: _I love you. Wha__t do you have to say about that (excuse me; I'm going to go hide before people take me to the loony bin)?_"

Teatime blinks for a second. Susan looks stunned.

"She _what?_ I'm sorry, but – _what? _Anyone could possibly stand – _what?!_"

She Who Shines shrugs.

"Teatime-lovers are fairly common on the discworld section of ."

She keeps the fact that she's one too to herself.

"Well, the disc's going to oblivion, that's for sure," Quoth squawks.

EEK EEP SQUEAK SQEAK, Death of Rats agrees.

"Strange," Teatime says.

"What?" several people chorus.

"Strange. That's what I have to say," he explains, as if it were very obvious. "It's strange, love. Odd. Bizarre. Different. Inexplicable. Strange." He grins at Susan, "…_freakish_." Susan stiffens.

SWS quickly flips through her cue cards, only to realize that she's come back to the beginning. She pouts.

"Aw, this has all been so much fun! But it seems I've run out of questions since I've only gotten two reviews so far…" she shakes her head sadly, before turning to you. "Well, what are you waiting for? Review! Write! And don't worry about me," she winks, "I can take care of myself, even if I whine while doing it. All your questions were awesome and fun, and I hope that you are satisfied with how well I got the characters to answer them. It's a bit hard with them being so feisty and angry with one another. But anyhow, thank you for tuning in and we'll be right back, after a few short messages*."

She Who Shines grins, and somehow, everyone is in a line and bowing besides yourself, who is still pinned to the chair. Everyone else looks peeved to be doing so, but SWS is merciless.

Once again, you find yourself back in front of your monitor, mouse hovering over the review button…

*The few short messages being your reviews.


	3. Well, MAYBE

As the familiar basement comes into your view, you find She Who Shines grinning maniacally. She looks, without a doubt, fiendishly delighted.

"My, you reviewers are going to be the death of me," she says excitedly. "But it's going to be a _fun _death, I'm sure. Thanks so much for all your super fast reviews; I can normally update much more quickly because of them. Sorry it took me so long this time... Mother's day and all, you know. Oh, and there has been some confusion as to how many questions you're 'allowed' to ask; well, you can ask however many you feel like to however many characters. So long as they showed up in Hogfather, I'm good."

She turns to the sulking crowd before her and pulls out her cue cards.

"Alright, let's mix it up. Teatime's first!" The Assassin looks up in surprise, rather curious. "This question is from duchess-susan to you: _Why do you love your knife so much?_"

"It's sharp," he answers, in a voice that could have just as easily been replying to the question '_why do you love air so much?_'. "It's small, so I can fit it wherever I like. It's practical and unpretentious. It's not fancy, or overly done. It's elegant and simple, and very lightweight. I've had it for a very, very long time. In a sense, it's the closest thing I have to family."

She Who Shines is momentarily nonplussed. She coughs, flipping through the cue cards.

"Moving on... Well, this question is from aicerkul to you once again: _Would you mind telling us how you lost your eye?_"

Teatime grins brightly.

"Yes."

SWS blinks.

"I don't think it was meant as a yes or no question," she manages.

"It was asked if I minded. I do," he chirps.

SWS takes in a deep breath.

"How did you lose your eye?"  
She isn't about to start letting these characters actually get _away _with not answering their questions.

"They never really worked," the Assassin shrugs.

"What didn't?" Susan snaps.

"My eyes. Everything was all blurry and colorless. So I cut one out," everyone in the room flinches at the thought, "and got a new one." Teatime grins proudly, "The world's lots nicer looking now; very sharp and colorful. I like my black one better."

"Yes, me too," SWS adds. "Well, I mean, I like you having a black glass eye rather than a gray one. It's just creepier. And cooler, too, so I take that from the movie rather than the book. Ooo, have any of you seen the movie?"

"Well, since we've been trapped here over night with nothing better to _do _and that odd box thing was sitting in front of us with 'Hogfather' _playing,_" Susan growls, "yes, we watched the bloody movie."

"What'd you think?" SWS asks excitedly.

THERE WAS FAR TOO MUCH CHEMISTRY BETWEEN MR. WARREN AND MISS. DOCKERY, Death replies. I CAN'T IMAGINE IT _REALLY _HAVING BEEN LIKE THAT. CORRECT, SUSAN?

There is a stern silence as Susan glares at the ground.

SUSAN? Death practically begs helplessly.

"I hate him, Granddad," she growls.

Death isn't quite sure if that is a proper answer.

"_I_ felt that the scene was portrayed rather well," Teatime chirped. "Though, if we are going by the book, I was much closer when I first saw her, and I asked for her name."

"I love that show to bits and pieces, but I hate how they cut the 'fire from the gods' lines," SWS sighs. "They were so witty."

"What?" Susan asked. " 'We've already got fire' followed by 'there must be an upgrade by now'?"

"Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself," She Who Shines realizes, ignoring the duchess. "No one actually asked about the movie. Back to the cue cards... Alright, Teatime, this is from aicerkul again: _Do you like or dislike inhuming with poison?_"

"I'm not sure if that method could really be entitled _inhuming,_" he replied. "It's so... _detached_. There's no _fun _in it. Place a bit of arsenic in someone's tea and they drop dead an hour later. No knifing, no stalking, no pleasant conversation, no cutting, no bleeding, no screaming, no _fun_."

He crosses his arms and shakes his head sadly. Quoth shuffles to the side nervously. Susan stares at him in utter disbelief.

"Just when I think you can't possibly get any worse, you open your mouth and I realize that you're twice as crazy as I thought you were. _Every bloody time._"

"So you say?" Teatime asks curiously, eyebrows raising. "Hmm. Perhaps so. I don't mind, though, so long as I have fun. I guess I just see things differently from other people," he shrugs.

"...To put it lightly," Susan grumbles, resting her chin in her hands as she glares at the ground.

"Next question!" SWS pipes. Then she groans. "Oh dear, here we go. This question is from sylphxpression, for you again Teatime: _Since we seem to have quite a bit in common (a near inability to really feel emotion, a sadistic nature, the ability to be fatally charming, a lack of friends and family who aren't terrified of us, and a general vote for being totally evil, an ability to move unnoticed very dangerously close to people) would you consider marrying me?_" – Susan sputters – "_C'mon. We would have some of the most interestingly psychotic children ever, and I'm sure we would manage if they turned on us._" SWS shakes her head, "I really wasn't expecting proposals this early on."  
"Marriage?" Teatime blinks. "I've never considered such a thing." He cocks his head thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I am not currently interested in romance of any sort. But I have had plans of inhuming certain anthropomorphic personifications for quite some time now, and more recruits would be quite useful. Care to join me?"

She Who Shines sighs, realizing that he wasn't talking to _her_. She glares at you.

"Well, answer ASAP, sylph," she growls, then flips her cue cards aggressively.

"What's the matter with the people here?" Susan calls. "Teatime is a psychotic Assassin who has no care for human life, murders – "

"It is _inhume, _Susan."

" – for amusement, has killed countless individuals, has admitted to drowning cats and singeing dogs, is twisted to the very core, is incredibly childish, and has no virtues beyond a false, sticky charm, well trained wit, and genius."

"Did you just say that I was a charming, witty genius?" Teatime asks curiously.

"Directly after I called you a sick, twisted and juvenile _sociopath!_" Susan bites back.

"Irrelevant," the Assassin dismisses, grinning. "I didn't know you thought so highly of me."

"I don't!"

"Yes you do."

"Don't!"

"_Do._"

"Do not!"

"Oh, you _do._"

Death glanced back and forth between them helplessly.

"You're both acting like five-year-olds!" Quoth squawks, ruffling his feathers. "I'd expect better from you, Susan."

"Not from me?" Teatime pouts.

"Uh..." Quoth wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Moving on!" SWS interrupts before it can get ugly. "This question is from coffee-mill: _What is your favourite way to inhume people? And least favourite?_"

"Oh, that's an easy question," the Assassin chirps gleefully with a happy grin as he crosses his legs (he is currently sitting on a crate that popped out of nowhere a few minutes ago). "I do very much love to" – CENSORED – "and" – CENSORED – "and" – CENSORED – ", but when it comes down to it, my favorite way to inhume is the direct stab. It is quick, reliable, distills the correct amount of fear beforehand… of course, it is also terribly uncreative. Still, it is my favorite in the same way vanilla is often people's favorite flavor of icecream." Everyone cringes at this most… _unique _analogy. "You like to taste all the fancy ones most of the time, but you keep finding yourself coming back to the plain original. My least favorite way to inhume is by poison, for previously stated reasons."

She Who Shines coughs nervously.

"This is from coffee-mill again. _Do you have any other interests besides inhuming people?_"

"I do enjoy imagining inhuming people, and planning how to inhume people as well," he offered helpfully.

Susan bursts out laughing, mentally screaming '_I_ knew_ it!_'. She is blatantly ignored by Teatime.

"Anything else?" SWS begs desperately.

"Cooking is an excellent pastime. I think I am rather adequate at that hobby," he put in. Several jaws drop.

"You like _cooking?!_" Susan calls.

"Why yes. I enjoy creating crepes, ommlettes, parfaits, stews, soufflés, hot chocolate… et cetera. I also love to learn and am very well rounded. I immerse myself in history, have studied math… I rather ignore physics, though."

EEK CHEEP CHEEP, Death of Rats grumbles.

HE SAYS 'IN MANY, MANY WAYS', Death translates for once.

She Who Shines nods in agreement as she flips through her cue-cards.

"Okay, so we've finished up all your questions, Mr. Teatime. We're going to Susan now." Susan grumbles incomprehensibly. "This is from duchess-susan to... well, Duchess Susan: _Why do you love your poker so much?_"

"It's heavy. It's metal. It is easily accessible and almost always available. It _hurts_," Susan replies in a low, dark voice.

"She is highly correct," Teatime adds. "It hurts _very _much. And were Susan not proficient in that easily accessible and almost always available weapon, she'd be dead." The cheery chirpy tone of his voice really doesn't fit what he is saying. "I had her _cornered_."

"Yes, but _you're _the dead one, Teatime," Susan bites back.

"I seem very much alive to me."

EEK SQUEAK EEK PEEP! Death of Rats squeaks angrily.

"He says don't you two start again," Quoth translates.

Susan rounds on She Who Shines.

"_You _did this!" she growls. "It took more effort than you could possibly imagine to get this psycho out of the way, and now you _bring him back! _What were you thinking? What do you plan to do? Just drop him back onto the disc to wreak havoc?"

"Um, I haven't really thought that far..." SWS mumbles. "I guess return him to the land of the dead, whatever that may be."

"No," Teatime says simply, shaking his and standing. "No, you won't be doing that." He glanced at Susan and grinned; "I'm glad you found me suitably challenging, at the very least. It's nice to know I went out with a bang."

"Look, you can inhume me later," She Who Shines calls desperately, "but _please _can we finish this session?" She holds out a bag of ginger cookies. "Aicerkul sent these. Let's just eat and be happy while I interrogate you."

The cookies smell excellent. Like really, really _heavenly._

Death of Rats has somehow already gotten to them, and the cheese. Death chews one thoughtfully. Quoth eats some of the liver packaged with it in satisfaction.

"Not quite eyeballs, but nevertheless…" he squawks.

Susan rolls her eyes and holds up a hand.

"I'm _not _in the mood," she grumbles when SWS offers her some ginger cookies. Teatime takes one while SWS begins her next question.

"This is a question from aicerkul to you, Susan: _if you had the choice between Lobsang and imp whou would you rather marry?_"

Susan blushes fervently. Teatime raises a brow and grins, watching intently. Susan sees, and looks about to start another squabble between the two of them.

I'M ACTUALLY RATHER INTERESTED IN THE ANSWER TO THIS QUESTION, Death puts in. PLEASE, DO GO ON, SUSAN.

Susan shoots a nasty look the Assassin's way, but proceeds to answer and abandons her previously planned verbal attack.

"First off, I adore Imp. He is a sweet, kind, _gentleman _and our time together will always have a dear place in my heart," she replies smoothly. "But I was sixteen, it was summer, and it is done now. Long passed and long remembered and sometimes longed for, but done. And I am _not _romantically interested in Lobsang. No way, no how. Nope." Her cheeks are growing redder. "I mean, when I think about him I certainly don't feel warm and silly. That's just in fairytales. And I don't love the way he smiles. And I – " she cuts herself off, wipes the nervous, shaky grin that has spread across her face into oblivion, and grows serious, attempting to make her cheeks pale and birthmark disappear. "I hope that answers your question," she finishes calmly.

Teatime looks thoroughly amused.

"Why, Susan. You _do _have a heart, and you fell for two. Here I was thinking you were so very_ cold_."

She glares at him.

"_I'm _not the one who brutally _murders _people."

"At least _I _use proper speech. And I'm always very _polite, _which is more than can be said about you." He grins lopsidedly, "But _you're _in _love!_"

The Assassin could have danced with glee as Susan stood to her feet, fists clenched, face burning, and looks ready to murder.

"_A__nd would you want to have children yourself?_" SWS spits out hastily, hoping it will distract the duchess. "That's from aicerkul again."

Susan glares at Teatime coldly, flexing her fists.

"I teach children. I do not intend to ever have any of my own, or marry. But the future is unknown. For the most part."

INDEED. SOMETIMES I HAVE VERY VIVID MEMORIES OF THE FUTURE.

"If only I could do that…" Teatime muses thoughtfully. "It would be so _very _intriguing."

Susan shivers, trying not to think of all the things the crazed Assassin would use _that _talent for. Then she mentally thanks the gods that he doesn't have it.

YES, WELL… IT'S A TRAIT BELONGING TO MYSELF, Death manages uncomfortably. AND PROGENY.

"This question is from sylphxpression again," SWS says.

"Wait," Susan cuts off, raising a hand. "This is the girl who proposed to _him?_" The duchess jabbed a thumb Teatime's way.

"Um, yes."

"Go on," she groans.

"_Wouldn't you be terribly lonely if the whole gang really did just "Left you alone and stopped bothering you?" You seem to long for weirdness.... Otherwise why freguent Biers?_"

Susan opens her mouth, then closes it. She opens it again, makes a short 'I' sound, then grinds her teeth. Finally, she folds her arms grouchily.

"A little loneliness never hurt anyone," the schoolteacher grumbles.

"Yes, I think I'm a fine example of that," Teatime puts in cheerfully. "I have known quite a bit of loneliness, and it hasn't messed with me at all, I don't think."

Susan glances at the Assassin uncomfortably.

"On second thought…" she mumbles, shakes her head, and finally speaks fully once more. "I go to Biers because it's there, and I don't stick out like a sore thumb. _There_ different is normal, for once."

"Would not being with Death and Albert and Death of Rats and Quoth make you normal, too, then?" the Assassin asks curiously.

"Shut up."

Death sighs sadly.

YOU REALLY DO WANT ME TO LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK, DON'T YOU? he asks with slouched shoulders.

"Granddad, it's just…" Susan tries, faltering and trailing off.

I REALLY DO TRY, SUSAN. I'VE COME AND ALWAYS TRY TO BRING GOOD CONVERSATION. I OFFER ADVICE AND GIVE SUGGESTIONS. I LISTEN TO YOUR TROUBLES AND TELL YOU ABOUT MINE. I HAVEN'T HAD MUCH OPPORTUNITY TO DISAPPROVE OF YOUR ROMANTIC ENDEAVORS, BUT I CAN BE CERTAIN TO DO EXCELLENTLY THERE. BUT… I JUST FEEL LIKE I CAN NEVER DO ANYTHING RIGHT WHEN IT COMES TO BEING YOUR GRANDFATHER.

SQUEAK EEP, Death of Rats offers.

"He says 'he really _does_ try, Susan'," Quoth translates lazily.

"You never do get it right, Granddad," Susan sighs. "But… but I would miss you if you never came back." She offers a small smile, "I still have that Hogswatch card you made me. It's on my mantel – the one with the robin that wouldn't stay on."

"I could think of several ways to get that accomplished," Teatime mentions.

"I think he wanted it _alive, Tea_time."

"Oh, that's easy enough! You just have to – "

The duchess can tell from the glint in his eye that she _doesn't _want to know.

"Don't, please," Susan calls, holding up her hands in desperation.

YES, I REMEMBER… Death sighs happily, thinking of that one moment of peace with his granddaughter over the Assassin's dead body. YOU REALLY LIKED IT?

"It was… very unusual. But, yes. Yes, Granddad, I liked it very much."

Death beams brightly.

"Oh," SWS remembers, "Gothgirlreid wanted me to give you a kitten." She takes a tiny, fuzzy chocolate-colored kitten hardly bigger than a baseball out of her purple jacket's huge pocket. She Who Shines passes the purring thing into Death's skeletal hands. "Here y'are."

OH… YOU MUST THANK HER FOR ME. WHAT A LOVELY KITTEN. I BELIEVE I SHALL CALL HER REID, IN GOTHGIRLREID'S HONOR.

Reid batted her eyes in tiredness. About then…

"A cat? How intriguing!" Teatime chimed with a maniacal grin as he popped up beside Death, eyeing the kitten dangerously. "May I hold it? I _do _have a way with animals."

Susan could swear that she is seeing his knife glint in one of his hands, but it disappears from her sight before she can blink. Death pulls the cat to his chest protectively. She Who Shines coughs nervously, then flips her cue-cards over.

"Coffee-mill wants to know what your favorite drink is, Susan," SWS says simply.

"Tea," she answers without blinking. There was hardly a pause between the host's words and hers. "Tea and cocoa."

"What a funny coincidence! I happen to very much love hot chocolate," Teatime observes.

Susan now realizes that she will never be able to drink the substance again without puking, and is thoroughly depressed about it.

"Coffee-mill to you again, Susan: _Ever got drunk & did something incredibly inappropriate?_"

"_No!_" Susan scoffs. "No, not ever." Then her cheeks redden. "Well, there was… no. No, no, no."

"Honesty's the best policy, Susy dear," SWS can't resist chiding. She immediately regrets it and is thankful that a wide eyed Death is able to hold his granddaughter back from strangling her.

"See, Susan? Even _you _have violent tendencies," Teatime points out.

"Mine – are – justified!" she growls, fighting viciously.

CALM DOWN, SUSAN. WE'VE ONLY GOT TO ANSWER SO MANY MORE QUESTIONS AND SHE'LL LET US GO. BESIDES, EVEN IF YOU DO GET HER, SHE'LL JUST MAKE YOU SHRIVEL UP INTO PAPER AGAIN.

Susan sags, and Death tentatively releases her. She still has a terrible glare aimed the hostess' way, and SWS cowers slightly under it, but continues nevertheless.

"You really ought to answer the question," she manages to peep.

NO, Susan growls with great finality, glaring at the poor girl darkly.

She Who Shines has no room to argue, and nods slowly.

"Okay. So… um… well… moving on to Death. This question is from duchess-susan: _would you take a scythe to the auditors if you could get away with it?_"

As much as a skeleton can, Death grins, the tips of his fingers slowly tapping the opposite.

TO TAKE A SCYTHE TO THE AUDITORS WOULD PROBABLY BE ONE OF THE MOST ENJOYABLE ACTIVITIES OF WHICH I HAVE TAKEN PART IN THE LAST FEW CENTURIES.

"This next question is from Gothgirlreid."

AH, THE YOUNG MISS RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU GIVING ME THE KITTEN?

"Mmhmm, that's right. Here's what she has to say: _You are one of my favourite characters, and I think you're fantastic, but why is your house a cottage? I would have expected it to be some sort of castle or something, but a cottage actually works better. I was just wondering why you chose it. I hope She Who Shines lets you have a kitten :)__._"

ER, WHY THANK YOU, Death says, sounding very flattered and pleased. THANK YOU INDEED. AS FOR THE COTTAGE, WELL, A CASTLE SEEMS VERY FOREBODING, DOES IT NOT? I HAD HOPED FOR SOMETHING MORE QUAINT AND ELEGANT.

"Elegance… such an elusive term. I am still working to master that," Teatime sighs wistfully.

BEYOND THAT, A CASTLE WOULD BE CLICHÉ. I TRY TO AVOID SUCH THINGS.

"I thought you specifically _tried _to be cliché, Granddad," Susan says in astonishment. "I mean, '_Cower, brief mortals!_'?"

Death shifts uncomfortably.

WELL, ER, YES… I DO THEM BOTH. NOW AND THEN.

She raises a brow, shaking her head and pursing her lips.

"Death, this question is for you from aicerkul:_ would you mind if su__san and teatime started dating? __or more?_"

Susan chokes on air. Teatime looks rather curious. Death of Rats almost looses his lower jaw bone. Quoth accidentally pecks the cheese instead of his liver. Death's eyelights turn off for half a second.

COME AGAIN? he asks helplessly.

"_Would you mind if susan and teatime – _"

OF COURSE I'D MIND! NOT ONLY AM I PATERNALLY OBLIGATED TO DISAPPROVE OF MY GRANDDAUGHTER'S ROMANTIC INTERESTS, BUT… _TEATIME?!_

"Not that I have any wish to begin a romantic relationship with Miss. Sto-Helit, but surely I am not so terrible?" the Assassin asks, sounding slightly dejected.

"You're a bloodthirsty psychoki – " Susan cuts herself off for half a second, "psycho-inhumer who… oh forget it. I'm tired of insulting you. How about we stick with this: _yes, _you are so terrible. You're _horrible_, in fact."

"Oh, dear. And I thought I was so very careful when it came to social interactions…" he shook his head sadly. "I just don't have the knack for that sort of thing, I suppose."

"You're so adamantly against a relationship between those two?" SWS asks Death curiously. "In most fanfictions you're either supportive or slightly shocked, but overall indifferent."

WELL… I SUPPOSE IF THAT'S WHAT SUSAN REALLY _WANTED, _AND MR. TEATIME MADE HER _HAPPY… _AND THEY BOTH DO HAVE ODD, UNHUMAN POWERS, AND THEY BOTH DO HAVE A STRANGE FASCINATION WITH/SIMILARITY TO CHILDREN, THEY BOTH ASSERT SUPERIORITY OVER OTHERS AND DON'T REALLY CARE ABOUT MONEY, TEATIME CERTAINLY WOULDN'T JUDGE SUSAN FOR HER ORIGINS... HE'D PROBABLY LOVE THE DEATH IN HER, IN FACT... AND… I SUPPOSE THERE COULD BE _WORSE _THINGS THAN A UNION BETWEEN MY GRANDDAUGHTER AND SAID ASSASSIN.

Susan gapes in disbelief.

"_Granddad?!_" she calls. "You can't be _serious!_"

Death shrugs.

THIS IS ALL ASSUMING THAT YOU ACTUALLY DESIRED SUCH A THING, SUSAN.

The duchess continues to gape. Teatime looks thoughtful, but thoughtful in a such a way that you would think Blind Io had bopped him over the head with the Fist of Enlightenment.

"Indeed, those are all commonalities that we both share, Susan and I," he muses, seeming half confused and half more certain than ever before. It is an odd combination. "And, she is one person I consider, though I know I could defeat her if I so chose, a challenge and equal."

Susan gapes at him next, too shocked to be angry.

"You're not _insinuating – ?_" she shrieks.

"Not at all, madam. Only considering, only thinking, probing and learning." He grins. "I like doing that."

"Well, _stop!_"

She Who Shines senses mounting tension.

"Um, well, one more question, Death, from sylphxpression: _Does it ever occur to you to make friends with mortals outside your family and Albert? I'm sure there are at least a few people who'd love to get to know you._"

Death cocks his head thoughtfully.

WHY, THE THOUGHT NEVER OCCURRED TO ME, he says in astonishment. PERHAPS... PERHAPS I SHALL. MORTALS CAN BE VERY INTRIGUING, VERY KIND, AND VERY INTERESTING INDIVIDUALS. IN GENERAL, HOWEVER, I WOULD GUESS THAT CERTAIN PREJUDICES WOULD GET IN THE WAY OF ANY RELATIONSHIP THEREIN.

"Most everyone has lost someone they love to Death," Quoth agrees ominously.

IS THAT ALL, SHE WHO SHINES? the anthropomorphic personification inquires.

"Yip, that's it for you. Only one more question at all, actually. This for Death of Rats from duchess-susan: _Have you ever played chess?_"

EEK CHEEP CHEEP PEEP SQUEAK, the tiny, skeletal figure replies. His vocalizations are accompanied by emphatic hand gestures.

"How comes _I've _not been asked any questions?" Quoth squawks, stepping from claw to claw and ruffling his feathers indignantly.

EEK CHEEP CHEEP PEEP SQUEAK, Death of Rats repeats.

"Um, I don't know. I guess people don't really wonder much about you, Quoth," SWS shrugs.

EEK CHEEP CHEEP PEEP SQUEAK! the little figure says again, placing his hands on his hip bones in frustration.

"But I'm an _interesting _character! I'm a _bird! _I can _fly! _I eat _eyeballs! _Why doesn't anyone ask _me _any questions? Is there something _wrong _with me?"

"Well, people haven't asked Violet, the Tooth Fairy, Billius, the Arch Chancellor Ridcully, the Lecturer in Recent Runes, Medium Dave, Mr. Sydney, Banjo, Mr. Brown, Ernie, Twyla or Gawain any questions, either, so you're not alone."

EEK CHEEP CHEEP PEEP SQUEAK! the Death of Rats practically screeches, stamping a single foot angrily.

"But I _deserve _some questions."

SWS shrugs.

"Want some more liver?"

"Oh, fine..." he huffs, taking it and chewing indignantly.

"Now could you translate for poor Death of Rats, Quoth?"

EEK CHEEP CHEEP PEEP SQUEAK, the little skeleton says one final time, crossing his arms huffily.

"He says 'yes, I often play chess against the raven'. 'The raven' meaning me."

PEEP EEK.

"He says 'it's about time'."

"...And that's a good point," SWS agrees. "It's about time we wrap things up. I think I've covered everyone's questions, but I've gotten so many that I'm not too sure. If I did miss one, just re-ask it and I'll hit it next time, I promise. And feel free to ask as many questions as you like, to anyone who showed up in Hogfather. It'll be tons of fun! Ooo, maybe you guys could dare the characters. I could _make _them do things. That'd be _fun._" She Who Shines pauses her rant, realizing how evil she's sounding. "Oh dear. I'm pretty darn awful. I guess that's why I'm sometimes called Draculina, the Bloodthirsty Author. Aw well. I hope you've enjoyed the show, and do leave some questions – this is gonna be FUN!"

"Somehow," Teatime says to Susan with a cheerful grin, "I have the terrible suspicion that what qualifies to our hostess as 'fun' will be quite the opposite to ourselves."

Susan nods gravely.

"For once, I agree with you."

Death watches curiously, then waits for the disc to explode. I mean, Susan saying something amicable to _Jonathan Teatime?!_ LUDICROUS!

The room fades, and once again you are before your screen.

Well? What are you waiting for? _Review!_


End file.
